


Knocking At My Door

by lovesfaceonit



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2014-06-09
Packaged: 2018-02-04 01:42:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1762105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovesfaceonit/pseuds/lovesfaceonit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s been approximately 580 days since he’s seen Louis but it feels more like 580 years. 580 lifetimes. 580 million days since his eyes have seen Louis. But who’s really counting. Harry isn’t.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knocking At My Door

**Author's Note:**

> I got the idea and title from the song All I Want by Kodaline ♡  
> All I want is nothing more  
> To hear you knocking at my door  
> 'Cause if I could see your face once more  
> I could die a happy man I'm sure  
> (the spacing gets really weird at some parts, so my apologizes)
> 
> ♡ find me on tumblr at leedsfate ♡

It was 6 pm on a Tuesday night and Harry had ordered Chinese takeaway. He had fallen into a routine the past year or so. Monday - Italian (Italian meaning shitty spaghetti he attempted to cook on the stovetop, but failed every time) Tuesday - Chinese (because no one really knows how to make Chinese food, so that's his excuse for getting takeaway every week) Wednesday - cereal (it's halfway through the week and he can't be bothered to care about his dinner choices at this point) Thursday - leftover Chinese (he always seems to order more than he can eat, you'd think after a year he would know. he doesn't.) Friday – (He should go out and socialize shouldn't he?) But he usually ends up getting a cheeseburger at the local bar, having a drink, and calling it a night.

He's 24. He shouldn't have a set routine, he should be spontaneous and venture out into the world he's yet to explore, but he does, and can't be bothered to make impulse decisions.

He used to have a free spirit. He used to live for adventure. He loved the idea of not knowing. But when his spontaneous boyfriend left, the spontaneity left with him.

Louis has been gone a year and 7 months. But who's counting? Harry surely isn't.  
It took him just 7 months to fall into oblivion and lose his impulsive nature. Niall's tried to get him to break out of that habit, but fails every time.

So here he is, sat on his sofa, eating Chinese takeaway (that's less than great), watching some ridiculous reality television on a Tuesday night, knowing this is the most excitement he will see all week. He wonders how he got to this point, but not really. He knows the answer. Dusty is sat opposite of him curled up by his feet. She doesn't seem to mind the routine. But when have cats ever cared about anything?

Harry's phone rings. It's Niall.  
"Hello?"  
"I don't know why you always answer with hello, you know who the fuck is calling, would be nice to get a "Oh hey man, what's up? I've missed ya!” Every now and again."  
"Sorry."  
"Yeah, sure ya are. Was just calling to see if you wanna come out hiding for a few hours tonight?"  
"Not really." Harry sighs.  
"Well too bad, I'm sitting in your driveway so get dressed cause were going out."  
"I really fucking hate you sometimes."  
"Yeah I know, make it quick."

15 minutes later Harry is headed out his front door wondering why the fuck he's even leaving in the first place. He opens the passenger door and plops down inside.  
  
"Hey mate! Almost forgot what ya looked like!"  
"Fuck off, just drive."

Harry used to be happy and go lucky. But when Louis left, that part of him left too.

20 minutes later they're pulling up to a bar that Harry's never seen. Which is not saying much considering he rarely leaves his own house.  
"Favorite pub ever! You're gonna love it!" Niall is exploding with joy as he takes the keys out of the ignition, seeming ever so pleased with himself.  
  
Which he should be. Harry’s left his flat just 5 times in the past year. So ultimately, this is a great feat for the universe.

Harry says nothing until they're walking through the front door and he remembers now. He and Louis came here on their second date. Louis thought it would be fun to try it out. It _was_ fun. But that was 3 years ago. And three years later, it isn't fun.  
  
"Can we go?" Harry tugs on Niall's arm.  
"Fuck no! We just got here! Forget about Louis what’s his face for 5 minutes and have some fun! " Niall says while heading straight for the keg.

  


This is the only pub that has a keg stand open for anyone and everyone as much as they want. That's probably really unsanitary and maybe even illegal, but Harry can't be bothered to care. The place is crowded for a Tuesday night. The blue fairy lights lining the walls cast a hazy glow across the room, blurring everyone's faces, making it somewhat more intimate. He never thought he'd describe a pub as intimate, but he's at that point in his life.

♡

Louis picked him up at 7 o'clock sharp.  
Harry had been nervous all day. His cheeks were flushed with a rosy pink that doesn't seem to fade when he's thinking about Louis. He thinks that means something.

  


"Found the absolute best pub to try out! Heard they've even got a live band!" Louis said as Harry opened the passenger door to Louis’ car. It’s small, just like Louis. Harry thinks people look like their cars. His excuse for that is that he’s observant, but really he’s just giving himself another reason to stare at Louis longer.  
The blue string lights illuminate Louis’ face, highlighting his cheekbones and kissing his eyelashes. Harry doesn't understand how someone can be so breathtakingly beautiful, but Louis defies all odds.

♡

That’s all Harry can think about. How Louis made him laugh louder than he had in a long time and how his eyes had a sparkle unlike anything he’d ever seen.  
  
It seems like hours pass and Niall doesn’t look like he’s leaving any time soon.  
  
Harry can’t handle being in the same place Louis once was. He’s locked himself in his flat for the past year living in crippling fear that if he goes somewhere he might breathe the same air Louis once did. He walks outside and takes a seat on the cold pavement. He wants to feel something, anything. Feel something that the alcohol can’t give him. As he lays back his whole body being engulfed in numbness, he just stares up at the stars, wondering if he’s even in the same universe as Louis anymore. He counts the stars until he can’t count anymore, his brain filling with a fuzzy blackness.  
  
“Mate what the hell are ya doin? Are ya mad?! It’s like zero degrees out here!” Niall is taking his hands and lifting Harry off the ground.  
“I was counting the stars and I guess I counted too high and my brain couldn’t handle it and blacked out.”  
“You’re even weirder when you’re drunk!” Niall says guiding Harry to the passenger side of his car.

  


He barely makes it through the front door of his flat before he’s falling down and taking the coat rack with him. Dusty sees the atrocity that is his state of being and avoids all interaction. Harry is an embarrassment to his own cat.  
  
He wakes up in a haze, not remembering how ended up on the floor of his apartment cuddling a coat rack, but he figures if this is the worst thing that’s happened tonight then he’s going to make it alright.  
  
He musters up enough strength (it's more dignity than anything) but strength, nonetheless, to get up off the floor and get into the shower. The hot water burns from the outside in, but the deafening sound relaxes him, sending him into a state of euphoria. He stops and thinks about how he got here. How he let himself get like this. Taking showers that should burn his skin, but instead just deaden his senses. He’s in over his head and completely out of his mind but there’s no escaping the reality he’s made for himself. 

  


Harry loves his job. It’s the only thing in his life that he can say that about these days. He gets to photograph things and write about them. Louis used to tell him that he was so good that he would photograph for National Geographic one day. Harry never agreed, but now he wishes he had, instead of telling him that he was a twat. Maybe he would’ve stayed. He’ll never know.

  


It’s Wednesday. Aka cereal for dinner. It’s 8 pm and Harry’s just finished writing his column for the Yorkshire Evening Post. He gets ahead in his work now. That’s also a thing that’s happening in his life. The Leeds Music Festival is next week. Of course he has to cover that. He and Louis went two years ago. pitched a tent and everything, the whole lot.

♡

“This is fucking impossible, Haz.” Louis sighs in distress.  
  
“Well babe, sitting back watching someone else pitch a tent while you read aloud the directions _is_ exhausting.” Harry smiles sarcastically.  
  
“Fuck that! I gave up on the directions long ago! We’re using common sense now, love.”  
  
It took Harry approximately 2 hours to pitch their tent while Louis sat back and “supervised”. But the tent was up and all was well. They’ve got their matching wellies and are heading to watch Two Door Cinema Club, because that’s Louis’ favorite band and Harry surprised Louis by not telling him that they were performing. You could say Louis was more than happy. If Harry could watch Louis’ eyes light up in excitement for the rest of his life, he thinks that wouldn’t be so bad.  
  
Later that night when most everyone was wondering around the array of tents that seemed to go on for miles, Louis and Harry weren’t. They were snuggled up in their tent, forgetting that this was supposed to be a social event.  
  
“Took you long enough curly, but you did a good job on the tent.” Louis’ breath is warm against Harry’s neck, which causes his heart to skip a beat.  
  
“Heeeeyy… I did a damn good job, you just sat and watched and did nothing but boss me around.”  
  
“Have you quite finished?” Louis kisses Harry’s mouth like his lips are sugar. He licks and bites and breaks away to press tiny little kisses all across Harry’s face. His eyelids. His nose. His forehead. Across his jaw line. Until Harry is filled with so much joy he can’t contain it. He starts giggling like a little boy under Louis’ touch. Harry thinks laughing is the most sincere way to let someone know how happy you are. That you’re filled with so much infatuation that you physically cannot contain it so it overflows from every crevice of your body. Love radiates in the atmosphere and Harry thinks the entire tent is filled with firey hot sunshine that’s suffocating him, but in a good way.  
  
Louis stops to rest his forehead against Harry’s. Their eyes meet and Harry thinks he could get lost in the sapphire universe that is Louis’ eyes. Harry thinks a lot. Mostly about Louis.  
  
Their lips are touching, but they’re not kissing. Harry thinks that’s the most genuine form of intimacy. When your lips can be touching, but the desire to soak in their presence and remember the way their eyelashes flutter at the contact, outweighs the desire to kiss.  
  
“I love you.” Louis whispers into Harry’s mouth.  
  
Harry’s heart completely stops beating or speeds up to a pace that can’t be normal. He can’t tell. His whole world turns a shade of blue gray. His mind is filled with hazy thoughts of nothing but Louis. And his fingertips convey a pulse that he’s sure the entire universe can feel. Louis has never told Harry he loves him and Harry doesn’t know if he should cry or laugh or smile or get up and run far away.  
  
He decides to do none of those.  
  
“I love you too, Lou.”  
  
Louis kisses Harry in a way that he’s never kissed him before and Harry kisses the same way back; Slow and with passion. The atmosphere is fuzzy and hot and filled with love. So much love that Harry thinks he might explode. Or crumble under Louis’ touch. Either is possible at this point.  
  
“I’ve loved you for so long. It’s taken me bloody ages to tell you and I’m sorry, Haz. I’m such shit at relationships and I figured you knew, that I didn’t have to say it aloud for it to be heard.”  
  
Harry’s brain can’t stop spinning. It’s like Louis is the entire galaxy and Harry is just an asteroid floating around. Louis is everything and nothing all at once. His cheeks are flushed a shade of deep pink and his body is about as hot as the sun.  
  
“I could love you for eternity and that wouldn’t be long enough.” Harry figures since they’re being honest might as well lay it all out.

♡

It’s Thursday morning and all Harry wants to do is hide under his duvet for all of forever. But he’s an adult and adults can’t do things like that.  
He’s already thought about committing a mass homicide about 3 times by the time he’s gotten to work. Make that 4 when he realizes the Leeds Music Festival is this weekend. Not next. This weekend meaning tomorrow. And tomorrow meaning 24 hours.  
  
All he can do is pull out his phone and text Niall, but even that might cause an extensional crisis.  
_I can’t fucking mentally prepare myself for the hell that is going to be this music festival by tomorrow_  
Harry forgets that Niall just doesn’t get it. Niall’s never been in love the way he and Louis were.  
_Pull yourself together mate ! why t fuck are ya stressin !_

  


Harry sulks through the rest of the day and when he gets home he drags himself to the bed and pulls the duvet so far over his head he thinks he’s sinking into a different dimension. He’d quite prefer that over his current reality.  
  
It’s been approximately 580 days since he’s seen Louis but it feels more like 580 years. 580 lifetimes. 580 million days since his eyes have seen Louis. But who’s really counting. Harry isn’t.

  


It’s 1 am and Harry hears a knock at his door.

  


The only thought crossing his mind is _why the fuck is Niall even allowed to exist._ He stumbles around in the darkness looking for his bedroom light and pads through the kitchen to unlock the door.  
  
The face he sees staring back at him makes him believe he’s dreaming. He closes the door and opens it again. Still the same face.  
  
“Hi.” Louis whispers.  
  
All Harry can think about is how much he wants to slam the door and pretend he was never there.  
  
“Sorry it’s so late.” Louis looks down at his shoes, looking slightly ashamed at himself for even coming.  
  
“Come inside, I guess.” Harry looks Louis in the eyes for the first time in 580 days and doesn’t think he will be able to think straight for the next 10 years.  
  
Harry takes a seat and Louis sits on the couch opposite him.  
  
The sparkle that was once Louis’ eyes is no longer there, that makes Harry’s heart sink a little.  
  
“Haz, I’m so sorry.” He looks Harry straight in the eye.  
  
“I’m such a fucking idiot. I shouldn’t be here but I shouldn’t not be here. But I owe it to you to be here.”  
  
“You don’t owe me anything Louis.” Harry is fighting back every urge to jump into his arms and cry and beg for him to come back, beg for him to never leave him again because he’s so fucking miserable without him, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t even look up at him.  
  
“Yes I do, Harry. I’m a fucking asshole and you shouldn’t have even let me in your house.”  
  
Harry looks at Louis with so much hurt and devastation in his eyes. It’s like the past year and a half without him were centuries long and he didn’t realize it until now. All it takes is one honest look and Louis knows.  
  
“I’m sorry I left. I was such a fucking idiot. I couldn’t deal with the love I felt for you and the only way I knew how to handle it was to just escape it. But I’ve regretted it every second of every day since I walked out of that door.”  
  
“Louis…”  
  
“And I know you’re gonna say it’s too late, that you’ve moved on and that you don’t give a single shit about me anymore and I understand but I can’t go another day without you not knowing that I’m still in love with you. I should’ve done this a year ago, I should’ve never left but I can’t change the fucking past. No matter how much I wish I could take back the hurt and pain I caused you, I can’t. But I can make up for all the time lost.”  
  
Harry’s barely said a word since he opened the door. He figures he should probably say something.  
  
“I want to say that it’s okay, but it’s not. Louis, you hurt me and broke me and turned my life into a living hell, to the point where getting up in the morning was too much to handle. You didn’t even give an explanation as to why you left, you just did. And that’s what hurts the most.”  
  
There’s a hollow hole where Harry’s heart should be. He feels nothing but a dull aching in his chest.  
  
_What do you do when the only boy you’ve ever loved shows up at your door at 1 am?_  
  
His mind is pulling him in one thousand different directions. The pieces of his heart, that he’s kept so guarded, is now scattered all across his living room floor. And the only person who could put it back together is sitting in front of him. He thinks that means something. But Harry thinks everything means something. Harry doesn’t even know what he thinks anymore.  
  
Harry’s thoughts are like tangled Christmas tree lights. He’s spent so long trying to untangle them, to get them back in working order, but it’s so difficult when there’s no one to help.  
  
“I’ve waited for you. 580 days I’ve spent in a state of worthlessness. Feeling sorry for myself. Pittying myself. Trying to piece together the reasons that you left. Trying to remember what I said that you made you leave. But I always come up empty handed.”  
  
It falls silent for a few minutes. Harry can hear Louis breathing and it’s the most comforting sound he’s heard in ages.  
  
“Do you still love me?” Louis’ voice is soft and Harry wants to cry.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Do you still love me? Do you still want to be with me? Do you fucking forgive me?” Louis repeats himself with the same delicacy.  
  
It seems like lifetimes pass before Harry answers him.  
  
“Yeah…. I do.”  
  
Louis’ face lights up and Harry wonders how he went so long without seeing the boy he loves shine like that.


End file.
